


When a Man Loves a Woman

by seekingtomorrow



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Crack, Gen, Parody
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-04
Updated: 2013-06-07
Packaged: 2017-12-13 22:46:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/829746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seekingtomorrow/pseuds/seekingtomorrow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blatant parody of the Red Wedding where nobody gets killed and Roose's younger brother, Michael, may or may not make a special appearance.  Also includes appearances by Roose's youngest son, Troy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Michael and his Mysterious Mist

**Author's Note:**

> WOW IT'S LIKE 1:30 AM AND THERE ISN'T ANYTHING I REGRET RIGHT NOW.

Catelyn looked at Roose, her eyes growing wide with horror and apprehension. Standing up, she slapped him with all her might, relishing in the feeling of finally taking out her pent-up anger.

There was a hissing noise. Thick, white mist began to appear in the corners of the hall. Plumes of it crept along the floor, reaching almost knee-height.

Catelyn turned to Roose with wide eyes. "Did you plan this, too?" She pointed to the mist, her voice venomous.

For the first time, Roose Bolton looked confused. "This is not something I was previously aware of, my lady."

"What's going on?" Walder Frey asked from the high table. His grip on his golden goblet started to tremble slightly.

The other guests in the hall started to inch away from the mysterious fog, standing on tables and chairs.

"What in the Seven Hells is going on, Bolton?" Frey slammed his goblet down, glaring daggers at Roose.

He shrugged in response, but his eyes were wary.

Suddenly, the doors that had been previously bolted by Frey guards, flew open. A lone figure stood, shrouded in shadow and even more mist. He strode in, swinging a glittering cape over his right shoulder. As he walked, his curly blond hair shone, fluttering around his broad shoulders like two golden butterflies making love on a sun-dappled mare galloping through a healthy cornfield on the sunniest day of summer.

"Hello, brother." He said, addressing Roose.

"Michael," Roose greeted in kind, through gritted teeth. "I thought you weren't coming."

"And miss out on this wondrous occasion?" The younger Bolton put a hand atop his heart. "I promised my fans a performance."

"Did you invite him here?" Walder asked Roose.

Roose shook his head.

"My lady." Michael bent down, kissing Catelyn's hand with the grace of a thousand ballerinas simultaneously executing perfect pirouettes. "It's a pleasure to finally make the acquaintance of the loveliest Tully sister."

"Lord Bolton," said Catelyn, stiffly but politely.

"And you!" Michael grasped Robb firmly by the shoulders. "What a handsome boy! Is this your wedding?"

"N-no," said Robb, clearly terrified by this mysterious stranger and the mist that seemed to follow him everywhere.

"What a shame." Michael shook his head. "Anyways, the show must go on. Band!" He pointed to the shivering group of musicians in the corner. "Give me a tune in D major!"

As the band got their act together, Roose fell to his feet, his hundred and thirty-three hidden knives clattering to the ground around him.

Catelyn looked at Roose with slight concern, but made no attempt to help the man up.

" _When a man loves a woman…"_

"Seven Hells," whispered Roose in a hoarse voice, "it's begun."


	2. Troy's Tip-Off

“My dad’s totally into you.”

Catelyn Tully’s brow furrowed with surprise. ”What did you say?” She asked the youngest Bolton.

Troy shrugged. ”My dad,” he said, continuing to bounce a rubber ball off the hewn stone of the wall, “is totally into you. It’s so obvious, I’m surprised you can’t tell.”

“What do you mean obvious?” Catelyn asked, shaking her head to rid herself of the initial shock. She continued darning Troy’s destroyed basketball uniform. 

“It’s obvious.” Troy offered no other explanation. 

The two made an odd pair, sitting in companionable near-silence. After the raucous Tully-Frey wedding the previous night, barely any of the guests, save for Catelyn Tully and Troy Bolton, were able to rouse themselves out of their alcohol-induced stupor.

“Do you really want to know?” Troy asked with the impatience of a young child.

“I suppose it can’t hurt.” Catelyn threaded her needle through one of Troy’s atrociously shiny jerseys.

Troy stopped playing with the ball. Plopping down into a chair, he dragged it with his feet over to Catelyn. She winced as the chair made a scraping noise against the floor. Walder Frey wouldn’t be too happy to see scruff marks on the usually immaculate floor.

“Did you like my Uncle Michael’s performance last night?”

“It was lovely,” said Catelyn passively. She smartly chose not to bring up Michael Bolton’s garish attire, nor the mysterious mist that seemed to follow him everywhere. 

“It was, wasn’t it,” said Troy, his eyes bright. ”One day, I’m going to be a singer just like him.”

“I’m sure your father will be so proud,” said Catelyn.

“But that’s the thing, you see. Dad hates singers. Well, not really singers. He just hates Uncle Michael.”

“Does he now.”

“Which is strange, considering he got him to serenade you last night.”

Catelyn accidentally pricked her finger with the needle. She kept her composure, shaking her hand slightly to rid herself of the sting.

“Dad’s never asked Uncle Michael to sing ‘When a Man Loves a Woman’ to anybody.”

“He asked him?” Catelyn sounded skeptical.

“Of course!” Troy nodded enthusiastically. ”I saw the whole thing! In fact, dad hasn’t really talked to Uncle Michael since my birthday six years ago.”

“That sounds terrible.”

“No, my birthday was great!” Troy smiled. ”Dad just told Uncle Michael to get a haircut and they stopped speaking for about six or so years.”

“Your father sounds like a lovely man,” said Catelyn, using the tone of voice she reserved for young children. She didn’t want to disappoint the young boy who seemed so genuinely eager to validate his father’s feelings for her.

Troy grimaced. ”Not really,” he whispered confidentially. ”He got me leeches for a birthday present once.”

“I see.”

“Anyways, my dad really likes you!” Troy jumped up from the chair and threw the ball up towards the ceiling. ”You two should talk sometime! I’m sure you’d get along great.”

“I’m not so sure of that,” said Catelyn. ”I don’t know your father very well.”

“But he knows you,” reassured Troy. ”He’s always going on about how smart you are and how much he admires you for having to put up with idiots! He never talks that nicely about anyone.”

Catelyn smiled genuinely at the boy. ”Well then, I suppose an introduction is in order.”

Troy Bolton beamed. ”Yeah!”


End file.
